


If You Die... Walk it Off

by DarthAbby



Series: The Amazing Adventures of Spider-Em and Abbypool [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Character Death, Gen, Mugging, Mutant Powers, but it's Deadpool so it doesn't stick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-04 23:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAbby/pseuds/DarthAbby
Summary: A girl is murdered, mostly on accident.A girl runs away, very much on purpose.





	If You Die... Walk it Off

**Author's Note:**

> Hell yeah, origin story time! As Ava_Dakedavra mentioned in her fic, these characters started as self-inserts but now they're so much more. I'm so excited to share Abbypool's story, even if the only people who read this are Em and I.
> 
> Fair warning, in case you missed the tags - this is a Deadpool origin story. It's gonna get bloody. And I don't name 'Abby' on purpose because she's not Abby yet, she chooses that name later on.

There’s blood on her hands, like, an  _ alarming  _ amount of blood.

The girl stumbles back, one hand pressed to her stomach, the other on the handle of the knife.

She hears a shout and running footsteps, and she’s alone in the parking deck. Apparently, faced with the prospect of watching someone die, the mugger had decided that her crappy phone and the ten bucks in her wallet weren’t worth it.

Oh, God, she’s going to die here.

She pulls the knife out, and even more blood comes with it - fuck, right, you weren’t supposed to do that. You’re supposed to leave it in until you’re at the hospital.

Too late now.

Her back hits a cement pillar and she falls to the ground, eyes squeezing shut.

Why in the world had she thought it would be a smart idea to take a walk by herself so late at night?

Oh, right, because her family was driving her crazy; too many loud people squeezed into a too-small apartment, gathering because her cousin was graduating tomorrow…

Or, was supposed to graduate. If she died, that might put a damper on things.

She pressed both hands over the wound, letting the knife drop to the ground. The pain sent white flashes across her vision and she sucked in a ragged breath.

This doesn’t seem like something she can heal from.

She’s always been a quick healer - probably some sort of low-grade mutation. It’s nothing showy, really. Scrapes and cuts heal within a matter of hours. The one time she broke a bone, it was fully healed about two weeks before the doctors thought it would be.

But this… she can’t heal from this. Even though she can feel her body trying, the itching, pulling sensation of the severed muscles trying to knit back together, she’s sure it’s too late.

There is  _ so much _ blood on her hands.

She slumps to the side, slowly coming to rest on the dirty concrete, grit digging into her cheek. Of all the shitty places to die, she just had to get stabbed in the old parking deck next to her stupid cousin’s old apartment building. She hadn’t even wanted to come to the graduation in the first place.

She’d told whoever had been paying attention that she was going to the 7-Eleven on the corner. If anyone  _ had _ heard her, they wouldn’t expect her back for a while. Even if no one had heard, she was prone to wandering off. It wasn’t unusual for her to disappear for a few hours.

No one would come looking for her in time.

She was just going to bleed out here, alone.

The girl closes her eyes and waits for death.

* * *

A hacking cough is the first sign of life that flashes through the parking deck, half an hour after the blood stopped dripping onto the concrete.

The girl opens her eyes, coughs again.

She’s sore, and covered in blood, but somehow… alive?

She scrambles for the hem of her t-shirt, yanking it up.

There’s a lot of blood, but no gaping wound. Just a thin, dark pink line, like a fresh scar.

“What the hell…?” she breaths, fingers dancing over the line lightly, barely touching the skin. It’s tender, and sticky with half-dried blood, but it’s  _ healing _ , somehow.

She looks away from her stomach to take in her surroundings. She’s still in the parking deck, back to the cement pillar. The knife is where she had dropped it, just about a foot in front of her.

There’s a  _ lot _ of blood on the ground.

She sucks in a quick breath, feeling nauseous, and that makes her cough again.

Coming back from the dead hurts. Who knew?

She looks around again. The area is a murder scene - literally, she supposes. Crap, is she a zombie? That would suck.

Two fingers under her jaw, searching for a pulse.  _ There. _ It’s fast but strong.

Definitely not a zombie, then.

She stands up, slowly and with a wince. Apparently, her mutant abilities were stronger than she had thought.

The idea scares her. She was prepared to live a boring, normal life, just trying to reach 18 so that she could escape her family. Now… now she’s got a  _ power, _ and if people know about it, they’re going to come after her.

She wouldn’t put it past some members of her family to try and sell her to the government or whatever.

So, she can’t stay here - no one can lose this much blood and walk away. No one  _ normal, _ at least. She can’t go back to her family -

That stops her cold.

She can’t go back to her family.

Her blood is all over a murder scene.

She… she can just  _ leave. _

“Opportunity knocks,” she mutters to herself, wiping her hands off on her jeans. They’re soaked in blood, too, so it doesn’t do much.

The girl looks at the door that will lead her back into the apartment building, then turns and walks in the opposite direction, towards the street.

Towards freedom.


End file.
